


The Only Way to Live in Cars

by severinne



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-14
Updated: 2008-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene gets bent out of shape when Sam flirts with a flash git driving a Jaguar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Way to Live in Cars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anonymous prompt in the first Life on Mars Anonymous Pornfest.

Gene took another drag off his Marlboro as he glared across the road, utterly uselessly because Tyler didn’t notice it, was too goddamned busy acting every inch the poncy tart he was with that Southern fairy bastard of a stock broker, Henderson or Henrikson or whatever his bloody name was. The two of them were stood at the driver’s side door of Mr. Harrison’s Jaguar, a hunter green S-type that was clearly compensating for shortcomings in the trouser department, if Gene thought so himself. He flicked the remains of his fag to the pavement and perched back on the Cortina’s boot, giving her a surreptitious pat of appreciation as he fished out another smoke.

As he flicked his lighter, a sudden burst of laughter made him attempt another glare that fell short at the sight of Tyler leaning on the Jag’s bonnet, face alive with merriment as Henrietta tilted his head closer to whisper something that made Sam let loose another low, delicious laugh. Gene couldn’t recall hearing his DI laugh very often, and the sound was addictive. Mr. Happy-bloody-poofmobile seemed to agree, and was pressing in closer, a hand rising to rest lightly on a leather-clad shoulder.

Gene snapped his lighter shut, snatched his unlit fag from his mouth. ‘Oi! Tyler! Anytime this bloody century, if you don’t mind!’

Tyler looked across the road at him, that wide stupid grin still plastered across his face. He didn’t reply, just shook his head in that odd, mystified way of his before pushing off the car’s bonnet and turning away from Gene to say something in a low voice to the rich, smug git with the miniscule dick. The flash bastard said a few words to the tune of a disgusting smirk before opening the car door and climbing in. The engine purred to life – Gene grunted and gave the Cortina a few firm strokes, then froze as Sam leaned into the Jag’s window like some fucking rent-boy pulling tricks. He was bent so low that his leather jacket rode upward, revealing that bloody tight arse of his. The tart.

By the time Gene had stifled his indignation – the arousal was gonna take considerably longer – the Jaguar had pealed off and Tyler was striding back across the road with that insufferable strut of his, still wearing a ridiculous grin. ‘Brian reckons the trade-off is gonna happen up top of the car park down Minshull Street,’ he announced proudly. ‘If we hurry we can get a good stake-out well before they’re due to show.’

‘Brian.’ He grunted the name with every ounce of disdain he could muster.

‘Yeah.’ Tyler was already walking around to his side of the Cortina, checking his watch. ‘They won’t arrive until after sundown, and we’ve got maybe an hour’s daylight left, so – ‘

‘Brian?’

Sam glanced up, idiot grin fading as he shrugged. ‘He insisted on just Brian. Nice bloke, really.’ He pulled open the passenger door of the Cortina. ‘Are we goin’ or what?’

Grumbling fiercely under his breath, Gene tucked his unlit cigarette back in its pack and dropped heavily into the driver’s seat. The ignition roared like a low, beastly thing – Gene nodded briefly in approval – and they accelerated westward, his gloved hands forcing gear shift and wheel with perhaps more aggression than usual.

The sky was rusting over the buildings, casting Manchester in a darkening glow and pouring through the Cortina’s windows; on a sideways glance, Gene could see the warming light playing off the smooth skin of Sam’s long throat, making unexpected colour flash in his curious eyes. Strange, often dark eyes that were now fixed on him. ‘Guv?’

Gene snapped his gaze back to the road, shifted into fourth gear. ‘We’re gonna miss beer o’clock,’ he muttered darkly.

‘Sacrifices must be made in the line of duty,’ Tyler murmured lazily, head rolling back against his seat.

‘You’re gonna miss your date with Mr. Flash Bollocks back there an’ all.’ The words were out of his mouth before they had fully formed in his head. A wave of bitterness lurched through him, harsh and scathing.

Tyler let out a small chuckle, dry step-cousin to the unrestrained vibrancy of his earlier laughter. ‘’Aven’t got a date tonight, Guv.’

‘Don’t tell me the big mean business man turned you down, pretty lad that you are.’ Gene kept the sarcasm firmly in place, even as something more genuine was hollering for appeasement.

Out of the corner of his carefully averted eye, Gene saw Tyler’s head turn to the side. ‘Course he didn’t, I got the information we needed, didn’t I?’ He didn’t have to look to see the smirk in that tone. ‘I keep telling you, you can’t just go in bashing ‘eads with these moneyed types, they’re too confident for that. They need a more delicate touch – ‘

‘Oh, aye, an’ what d’you do when you meet the ones who like it rough, Dorothy?’ Gene’s voice was booming in the car’s interior now, and he frankly didn’t give a toss. He spotted the concrete bunker of the parking garage and regretfully began to shift down.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Guv…’

‘No, really, Sam, this is incredibly educational. Wish we’d had this chat sooner, that way instead of dealin’ with bugs an’ radios and bloody undercover nonsense on that Twilling case I coulda jus’ sent you in to suck the bastard’s John Thomas. Delicate-like, I’m sure.’ The Cortina screeched to a sudden halt behind a concrete bulkhead on the empty second level. ‘We’re ‘ere,’ he grunted unnecessarily. Gene sat still for a beat, feeling the blood pounding through his veins, then reached out blindly, opening the door and climbing out, desperate for space.

Eyes closed, he heard the clink and slam of Tyler getting out at his side of the car. ‘What the ‘ell is your problem?’ he yelled indignantly across the vinyl roof.

Something minute, like an elastic band breaking with age and strain, snapped inside Gene’s chest. Growling, he circled the Cortina in quick, long strides, grabbed Sam by the lapels of his jacket, and slammed him into the concrete barrier behind him. ‘You,’ he snarled, breathing heavily. ‘You’re my problem, with yer bloody laughin’ an’ looks an’ bendin’ over like some flamin’ prozzie for any ol’ rich bastard to see.’

Tyler flinched backward, eyes wild with fear even as a stubborn flash of something else fought to meet his rage halfway. ‘Gene…’

‘Shut it.’ Words were rapidly abandoning him now, and he settled for thumping Sam’s body into the wall again while he gathered his thoughts. ‘You’re _my_ DI, got it? You do as I say, and I say you do _not_ strut yer arse about playin’ the whore for leads. I won’ have you out there lookin’ cheap like that, got it?’

A long silence dragged out before Sam swallowed once, licked his lips and nodded. ‘Yes, Guv.’ And tilted his hips forward, closing the marginal gap between their bodies as Gene sucked in a harsh breath at the slight brush of Sam’s firm, trouser-restrained erection against his own. Holding his breath, Gene pressed his clenched fists tighter against Sam’s pinned body and stared down as he rolled his pelvis forward, responding to Sam’s movement with deliberate slowness, testing the hot friction of their cloth-covered lengths rubbing and straining together. Sam closed his eyes, rolled his hips closer still, and let out a low groan.

The sound was far more amazing than any bloody laugh, and suddenly Gene was swallowing it down, their mouths meeting in hard, desperate kisses, teeth scraping and tongues pushing at each other, wet and frantic to get inside each other. Gene gained entry briefly, only to be greeted by teeth nipping sharply at his tongue; he pulled back and bit down hard on Sam’s lower lip in retaliation, holding firm as his hands scrambled to unfasten Sam’s belt. Sam released a needy, inarticulate sound from the back of his throat as he reached down to return the favour, fingers pressing behind the waistband of his trousers. Gene growled appreciatively and instinctively bit down harder, tasting a slight copper tinge on his tongue along with the sweet flavour of Sam’s pained whimper.

Gene quickly won the race to overcome the complications of belts, zips, trousers and pants, and licked a broad, smug stripe across Sam’s panting mouth as he explored his prize with both gloved hands. He groped at his tightly drawn balls, squeezing and releasing with his left hand while the right explored the full, heavy length of his cock with light touches of leather, moving from the root and pausing to toy with the hot flesh whenever Sam involuntarily shuddered or cried out. By the time his gloved fingers closed around the head he found it slick with pre-come, and hummed approvingly as the copious moisture coated the leather.

‘Likin’ this, aren’t you?’ he hissed into his ear, biting compulsively at the lobe. ‘Shoulda known you’d be a right kinky bastard…’ Sam replied with another deep moan as Gene’s left hand moved to grip his cock at the base, massaging firmly while his right palmed over the slick head, rubbing relentlessly against Sam’s shallow thrusts. ‘Knew you’d get off on the feel of leather all over yer cock, you dirty tart… gonna make you shoot yer load on my gloves, Sammy, show me just how dirty you are… yes, come for me, Sammy, yes…’

Sam’s hoarse shout echoed off the vast concrete space as he pulsed helplessly into the palm of Gene’s hand, head cracking against the wall as he arched back in release. He winced as the sharp pain collided with the pleasure seeping into his limbs, making him slump bonelessly backward. ‘Fuck,’ he gasped, eyes glassy with lust.

‘My thoughts exactly.’ Gene gathered his left arm around Sam’s shaking back, pulling his body tight against him for a fierce kiss, his hand reaching down to shove down Sam’s tight trousers and grope at his firm arse. ‘I think you owe the Cortina an apology,’ he murmured.

‘You what?’ Sam blinked up at him, visibly confused.

With a smirk, Gene stepped to the side and gave Sam a helpful shove, sending him sprawling against the Cortina’s bonnet, hands splaying out to catch himself before his face collided with the paintjob. ‘Much better.’ He moved in tight behind Sam, sliding a firm hand upward from the base of his spine, pushing his jacket and shirt up his back as he coaxed Sam down, flush against the car’s hard surface. His right hand, glove dripping with Sam’s release, slid down between his exposed buttocks and smeared a finger’s share of semen over his tight hole before gliding its neighbour inside with a single insistent push that made Sam buck beneath his restraining hand and let out a cry suspiciously close to a scream.

‘Easy, Sammy-boy.’ Rubbing his hand over his shoulders, Gene leaned forward, pressed his lips to the stretch of spine exposed just beneath the bunched layers of Sam’s coat and shirt. ‘If this needs to stop, tell me now,’ he said, forcing his voice to remain steady. ‘I want you, hard, jus’ like this, but I won’ force you.’

‘Oh, god.’ Sam’s own voice was nowhere near steady. ‘Yes, fuck, Gene… yes, don’t stop, force if you ‘ave to, just don’t fuckin’ stop…’ His arse clenched around the single finger inside him, and Gene shuddered desperately as he quickly added a second, pressing and stretching at the tight flesh, pulling his fingers apart and rubbing his hard cock into the come coating the palm of his glove, easing along the slick leather as he forced himself inside, fingers withdrawing as his cock took their place. Sam cried out again, and its echo bounced back at Gene as he answered with a deep-chested groan.

‘Oh, fuck…’ His hips were already thrusting irresistibly into Sam’s tight heat, unable to take this slow, not when Sam had so needfully given in to this. He clutched firmly at the body beneath him, messy leather-clad fingers pressing hard to maintain a grip on Sam’s sharp hipbone, tugging at handfuls of clothing between his shoulder blades to keep him from sliding further up the bonnet under the force of Gene’s thrusts. Sam writhed under his hands, a constant mutter of moans and obscenities tripping off his lips as his own hips bucked backward, trying to take him deeper and throwing off his rhythm but Gene didn’t give a fuck about rhythm because it was Sam, fierce and rough and just _perfect_ beneath his hands and around his cock.

His orgasm took him by surprise when it hit, slamming through his nerve endings and wresting his entire body apart from what was left of his brain. He felt his hand strike down hard on Sam’s arse as he came, and while it was unintentional, the harsh moan he got in return made him do it twice more before he collapsed forward, burying his face in the nape of Sam’s neck. The scent of sweat and leather welcomed him and he mumbled happily into the warm, damp skin.

‘Gene?’ A small, muffled voice drifted to his ears, sounding more than a little breathless. With great effort, he regretfully eased his softening cock out of Sam’s slick passage and pushed himself upright, scooping an arm around Sam’s chest as he did so and helping him regain his shaky legs. Sam leaned into him heavily and Gene, still too wobbly to be much help, carefully turned them both around and leaned back against the Cortina, cradling Sam against him with both arms.

‘About bloody time,’ he muttered softly, pressing his mouth to the new-found haven of Sam’s neck. The taste was even better than the smell.

A small chuckle shook the flesh beneath his lips. ‘Sorry ‘bout that,’ Sam slurred gently, spine flexing as he rolled to press closer into Gene’s embrace. ‘Was takin’ ages to find a bloke decent-lookin’ enough to make the flirting tactic worthwhile. Never mind a car to rival the Cortina.’

Gene froze, then let out a brief huff of laughter. ‘You sneaky little tart.’ He tightened his arms around Sam in the description of a hug, and returned to the nape of his neck.

  



End file.
